


The Best Broken Record

by loochskywalker



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: 5+1, Fluff, M/M, To me anyway, Trades, a lot of fluff, this ship really exists, what to do when your otp has never interacted before
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-08
Updated: 2014-11-08
Packaged: 2018-02-24 15:08:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2585909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loochskywalker/pseuds/loochskywalker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alternative title: Two Pairs of Socks (i'm not sure)</p>
<p>or 5 times Duncan Keith is loved and the time he realizes it's not so bad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Best Broken Record

**Author's Note:**

> So i mentioned, casually in passing to a friend that Duncan Keith and Adam McQuaid would be perfect together. It was a total joke but now I'm in it for the long haul. These two, with their beautiful facial hair and stunning eyes, would make perfect hypothetical babies. 
> 
> (also there's a part with casual misogyny, the characters don't talk about it but it's still a dick move that was meant to show Duncan's insecurities.)

1.

_May 22, 2014_

 

Adam staying in his house in Chicago is probably the best thing best thing that’s happened to Duncan since the cup. He’s so used to meeting Adam in random hotels or their summer homes that when he gets Adam in his actual bed, his whole body flushes with happiness. He wishes he could climb into bed with Adam, but he has hockey to play, and Adam’s nursing his still tender ankle.

“Surgery,” Adam wrinkled his nose, when Duncan eyed his crutches the first time, “I need to sit.”

He should be sitting; he should be in bed. Putting weight on it isn’t going to help the healing process at this point.

Duncan steps out of the shower and ties a towel around his waist before stepping into his bedroom, where Adam isn’t even near the bed but on the ground in front of Duncan’s suitcase.

“What are you doing?” Duncan asks skeptically.

“Re-packing,” Adam waves him off. His foot is stuck out awkwardly to the side, relatively limp and a gory black and blue. Every time he moves, Duncan can see the tendons in his ankle tense, pushing at the speckles of purple.

Adam leans forward and reaches into Duncan’s dresser, checking out a shirt before tossing it back into the drawer. He does this a few more times, alternating between putting the clothing back or folding it neatly and stacking it along side the other clothes in his suitcase.

“Why?” Duncan asks.

Adam’s not slowing down, checking out a dark colored flannel before holding it against a white t-shirt he had already packed away and deciding it must be good enough. Duncan had already packed, or so he thought. Apparently his boyfriend of two years was actually his mother.

“Because you packed only two pairs of socks, plus almost nothing to sleep in. I know you think sleeping in whatever is fine, but there’s nothing better than sleeping in actual pajamas,” Adam peers up at him, “You need the best sleep possible. Also…” he picks something he had tossed on the floor and throws it at Duncs, “you had that packed.”

Duncan catches it easily and stares down at the tattered garment in his hands. It’s a shirt, but barely. There are huge holes in it from playing with dogs and stuff. Duncan frowns; he really didn’t mean to pack that.

“I don’t care how I look Adam.”

“Neither do I,” Adam says and looks up again, “but you’re miserable at packing for yourself. You’re going to thank me, seriously,”

Duncan folds his arms in front of his chest and just frowns for about a minute, watching Adam move, unperturbed that he’s being watched. He even starts humming a little as he fixes everything and pats it down, making it all lay in neat little squares. It’s so much more organized than the pile Duncan had going. Duncan’s always done his pile thing, and it’s always _worked_. He doesn’t need Adam doing this for him—especially when Adam should be in bed or on the couch, not moving so much.

“You should get up,” he says finally.

“Why?” Adam frowns,

“ _Because_ you shouldn’t be moving around so much. You need to go sit down!”

“I am sitting,” Adam says matter-of-factly. He turns his grey eyes up at Duncan, with such a deep confusion that Duncan feels bad about raising his voice at all. God, Adam has the best puppy dog eyes and he doesn’t even know it.

“I’m an adult,” Duncan feels the need to point out as he gently helps Adam stand back up, an arm going around the taller man’s compact waist. “You don’t need to take care of me like that. I can pack just fine,”

“You can’t,” Adam assures him, using Duncan’s shoulders as leverage as he’s lowered back into the bed. He props his ankle back up on the pillow Duncan had put there for him and snuggles into the pile of pillows behind him.

Duncan rolls his eyes as he goes to get changed into whatever’s still lying around on the floor, ignoring Adam’s huffs of annoyance.

Duncan knows his fashion sense is…limited—he always has known, and he’s always been okay with it. Though it has gotten better since Adam crashed into his life; he does have to admit. With that being said, Adam’s still not one of those guys who constantly fusses over his appearance—he doesn’t do anything to his hair besides cut it before it gets unruly.

Adam takes care of himself even if he never really “dresses to impress.”

He likes to bundle up for bed, wearing loose flannel pants and black hoodies with the hood pulled up. He never seems to get hot at night, no matter how close they cuddle. And in the morning, his skin will feel like it’s on fire, but he’ll just smile lazily when Duncan touches him, like he wishes he could be even warmer.

Duncan thinks he looks beautiful like that.

Adam looks just as good when he isn’t bundled up, though. He should have a tough time finding jeans, shouldn’t be able to fit into so many so well. Adam has these long, _long_ legs that are not as skinny as they should be. The proportions should be awkward, but it just means that all of his jeans are tight and well…why would Duncan care if he wears too-tight clothing?

So Adam doesn’t care how he looks like some of the guys Duncan knows, but he still tries. Duncan also knows that Adam wouldn’t care if Duncan dressed like a slob all the time. Adam just wants him to be comfortable. It’s just that…Duncan isn’t always cool with that. He should be; there’s no reason to not accept the doting behavior of his boyfriend. But Adam is so…Adam, and Duncan feels like he needs to build a fortress around him to keep him safe, and he can’t do that if Adam is doing the same.

“I’ll get you ice,” Duncan tells him, leaving the room to go do just that.

 

2.

_July 29th, 2014_

 

Duncan is drunk. Like _really_ drunk. He doesn’t know how he got this drunk, but he knows that everything is swirling and sparkling, and when he opens his mouth to tell Adam how pretty he is, his voice comes out slurred. It’s okay, though, because Adam smiles super soft, so Duncan knows he got his point across.

“Come on,” Adam grunts into his ears when they reach the step.

“No,” Duncan whines softly, “no come on, kiss me.” He places his hand on Adam’s cheek to try to get coax him into a kiss.

Adam kisses him once, softly. “Get up the stairs for more,”

“Okay!” Duncan beams. That sounds like such a good idea. The stairs are a little hard, and they keep moving around on him, but Adam grabs his elbow and stabilizes him whenever he’s about to tip over. It’s great. Adam is so great at this.

When they get to the top, Duncan pats his arm and smiles proudly. “Good job!” He says.

“Yeah, thanks.” Adam gives a small smile back. He looks really tired and Duncan thinks maybe that getting him to bed might be important. A lot of the time, when Adam is tired, he’ll keep pushing, and Duncan doesn’t think that’s healthy. He needs Adam to be healthy.

“Go t’bed,” Duncan slurs and pushes at Adam’s back.

Adam digs his heels into the carpet, “Duncan, stop it.”

“Why? You’re tired. You need sleep.”

“Okay, but you’re pushing me toward the laundry room.”

Oh, Adam’s right, the bedroom is the other way. “Oh right,” Duncan says, grabbing Adam by the arm instead and heading towards the bedroom this time (hopefully). He finds his room fine once he gets past that first speed bump, and the moment he has the door open, he’s trying to find Adam’s lips again. Duncan was promised more kisses, and he is going to cash in right now.

Adam kisses him back like he always kisses, and that’s the absolute best. Duncan wants to pull Adam down so he doesn’t feel too small, but if Adam is bent over, then Duncan can’t touch him as much.

He whines against Adam’s mouth.

“What?” Adam asks pulling back a little.

Duncan can still feel Adam’s breath on his lips when he responds, “I wanna touch, but I don’t like being so low.” He means height wise; he hopes that Adam gets that.

“Alright.” Adam smiles at him, and Duncan feels a serene glow wash over him. Adam always knows what Duncan means, and he always wants to help. Duncan is so thankful for that. Adam is so great.

Adam goes back to kissing him, letting his hands travel down Duncan’s back, making him giggle when he gets to Duncan’s ass.

“You’re a child,” Adam murmurs softly before holding tight and lifting.

Duncan yelps (it’s totally manly) as Adam lifts him up. His legs go around Adam’s waist on instinct as Adam’s hands support him.

On one hand, it’s exactly what Duncan wanted—taller and pressed all up against Adam’s front. But on the other hand, he’s being lifted by his boyfriend, and Duncan doesn’t like that. He should be lifting Adam up, bridal style and everything and carrying him through thresholds and making him giggle and blush. Instead though, he’s squirming and whining as Adam walks him to the bed and drops him down.

His legs are spread around Adam’s waist and he goes to turn away quickly before grabbing at Adam and pulling him on the bed so he can roll over on top of him easily.

When he looks into Adam’s face, though, he remembers how tired Adam was and just leans down to kiss him lightly on the forehead.

“Come on,” he says, reaching for the comforter and tugging it down the bed, “lemme tuck you in.”

 

3.

_October 7th, 2014_

 

Duncan wakes up to the smell of bacon and eggs wafting through the air. It smells so nice and warm that he just breathes it in and sighs deeply, thinking about the off season before he remembers: it’s not the off season, and he’s alone in his house right now.

His eyes snap open, and he rolls out of bed before heading downstairs.

He’s pretty sure someone didn’t break into his house to cook breakfast, so he’s only a little apprehensive as he walks down the stairs, telling himself over and over again that it’s probably just Seabs. Duncan doesn’t really know why Seabs would surprise him with breakfast in the morning. He’s just not sure who else has a key and doesn’t want to skin him alive for a shrine they have under their bed.

The back that’s turned to him when he gets into the kitchen doesn’t belong to Seabs or a crazy fan. The hair is dark and curly. the man is tall with long, muscular legs. Yeah, Duncan would know that back anywhere.

That doesn’t mean he gets why Adam McQuaid is standing in his kitchen the day before the season starts, though.

“Adam?” His voice breaks the calm breakfast environment, but Adam just turns and smiles at him, a red line over his brow from where he got in a scrap the last preseason game. Duncan had watched it. he also took a shot to the ankle and limped off the ice before going back on for his next shift.

“Morning,” Adam said back before turning back to the stove, “breakfast is almost ready.”

Duncan stepped forward and placed his hands on Adam’s waist kissing the back of his shoulder. “Why are you here?” He asked.

“You knew as well as I did that the Bruins were looking to trade a defensemen. It was either Boych or me, and well…Chicago made an offer.” Adam isn’t looking at Duncan, but his face is flushing—and not in the good way.

“Yeah?” Duncan asks.“You okay?”

“I’m fine. Go sit down.”

Well, the food did smell good…

It’s not until after they’ve both eaten and Adam is cleaning up that Duncan jolts out of his chair, just having thought of something. God, he’s, like, the worst boyfriend ever.

“Let me do this,” Duncan says, reaching for the scrubber and the pan Adam is working on.

Adam huffs and gives Duncan a look. “It’s fine, Duncan. I got this,”

“No,” Duncan yanks the items out of Adam’s hands, “go sit down or something, relax, take a shower. I got all this.”

Adam blinks at him slowly, his face carefully relaxed and his eyes almost totally blank. Duncan knows how important the Bruins were to Adam, knows that when Adam was out with an injury they had called “life threatening” that Adam was sure they were going to trade him away as soon as possible. Now that they actually had, it doesn’t look like Adam is taking it easy at all. He may seem composed, but Duncan can’t remember the last time Adam’s eyes weren’t shimmering.

“Let me,” Adam says weakly,

“No,” Duncan says, “you got traded and the first thing you do is make me breakfast,” Duncan feels disgusted with himself, “and the second thing you do is clean it up for me,”

“I’m _fine,_ ” Adam glares, his fists balling. “I’m fine, okay? I’m good. Cleaning up will make me feel better, okay? Because then I can…like, pretend you’re Dougie or some shit and not feel so far away.”

“Adam it’s…”

“Whatever, just…let me do this.”

Duncan let’s Adam take back his stuff.

 

4.

_January 8th, 2015_

 

Duncan crashes on his hotel bed hard when they get back.

“You okay, old man?” Adam’s voice floats into Duncan’s ear, making him groan into the comforter.

“Don’t, Adam,” but he’s whining, and he doesn’t really mean it.

“You’re not even on the first penalty kill anymore,” Adam teases.

Duncan grunts when Adam falls onto his back, spreading out on top of him. He’s fucking heavy.

“You’re not going to stop bragging about that, are you?” Duncan asked, turning his head from the comforter so he could properly breathe.

“No,” Adam nuzzled the back of his neck, “I can’t help but brag when they decide I’m a better defensive defensemen than they’re top man.” He pokes Duncan in the side, making him groan again. “You’re such a baby, goddamn.”

“Shut up. I’m tired, and I want food.”

Adam climbs off of Duncan at that, and Duncan hears him moving around the room, turning his head to the other side to catch sight of his boyfriend.

Adam’s still dressed in his suit, but he’s grabbing the room service menu, and Duncan loves him sort of a lot. He grins and turns on his back so that, when Adam comes back to the bed, they can curl up against the pillows and each other.

Adam’s head rests easily against his collarbone as Duncan opens the room service menu. He has a sudden need for Italian food, pizza specifically. The feeling makes Duncan uncomfortable, because he doesn’t even eat pizza anymore, but he wants it _so bad_. He knows it’s a bad idea, but he convinces himself—they don’t have a game for a few more days anyway, so if it makes him feel gross, he’ll be fine by the time they do have a game. He’s never really wanted a pizza this bad before.

Except, when Duncan checks the whole menu over _twice,_ there is no pizza. It’s a fucking outrage.

“What the hell?” he whispered angrily.

“Hmm, what?” Adam asked sleepily looking up at him. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s no pizza! I thought there was pizza on, like, every menu.” Adam’s face screws up in confusion but Duncan keeps going, “I just want pizza. Is that too much to ask? If I wasn’t so dead tired, I would be walking somewhere to get it.”

“Uh, Duncs,” Adam said slowly, “you hate pizza.”

“I know,” Duncan grimaced, “so of course, the one time I want any, we’re at the one hotel in north America that doesn’t serve it, not even that weird fancy shit.”

Adam takes the menu from him, studying it intensely like maybe Duncan somehow missed it the five times he read it over.

“I’m sure they have it. Let me call.” Adam reaches for the phone but Duncan stops him.

“I’ll live,” Duncan promises. “I’m going to go hop in the shower, alright?”

“Yeah, okay,” Adam doesn’t look happy about it, though.

He wanted to invite Adam with him, but that didn’t work well with them. For Adam, a lot of the time a shower was his alone time where he didn’t have to carry the world for a bit. But also, neither of them are small, and considering Adam is already an injury waiting to happen, showering together should only happen when the shower is as big as the bathroom itself.

When Duncan steps into the shower, he can file the whole day away. It’s important. He feels like he’s washing it all down the drain, and when he gets out, he has a time out until he wakes up tomorrow. His life is awesome, what he’s always wanted, but getting these small breaks where he can eat and sleep and maybe even cuddle a little (especially this year with Adam being around and all) is life saving.

He takes his time, but he can’t stay in there forever. He steps out of the shower, tying a towel around his hips before walking into the hotel room, hoping to get some food and then crash for the night.

But…it’s empty. The room is empty.

“Adam?” Duncan calls which is stupid, because it’s not like there are any hiding places in here, but…where the hell is he?

Duncan stalks over to his phone and picks it up, checking the text messages. And of course, there’s one from Adam. It states he went out for a bit and he’d be back in about half an hour. The text was sent ten minutes ago, so Duncan decides it’s not time to freak out just yet [although he can definitely picture a brutal kidnapping (even though Adam could tear anyone’s head off.)]

He dresses slowly—runs a towel through his hair and changes into the pajamas Adam had packed for him. They’re cozy and warm, and Duncan just wants to burrow into bed with Adam and food and maybe a long movie they can fall asleep to.

Duncan gets into bed and decides that one out of three is what he’s going to have to settle with for now. Plus, in another ten or so minutes, he’ll have Adam back, and they can order room service together. He only has to settle for so long.

Duncan must fall asleep or something, though, because when he wakes up, it smells like Italian food, and his face is awkwardly crushed into his bicep. He groans into the spot of drool and wipes at it angrily with the sleeve of his shirt.

“Here you go, sleeping beauty,” Duncan looks up to see Adam with a box in his hand. “I got dinner.”

“Wha?” Duncan sits up as Adam places the box on the desk at the foot of the bed.

“I got you your pizza,” Adam explains as he opens the box and reaches in.

Duncan frowns in confusion, not registering what he means, even as Adam is turning towards him with a piece of pizza on a flimsy paper plate.

“Why?” Duncan asked,

“You wanted it,” Adam blinked, passing him the plate. “I just did a search on the local pizza places, and this is supposed to be the best. Even the cab driver was gushing about it when he heard where I was going,”

Duncan felt his brow furrowing before he looked back down at the pizza Adam had put in his hand. He can’t fathom why Adam would get him pizza when he looks so tired. He hasn’t even taken a shower himself, and he’s worried about whether Duncan gets the food he wants or not.

“You didn’t have to do that, Adam.”

“I wanted to,” Adam said simply, “and I haven’t had pizza in a while either.”

“You left the hotel room, went down stairs, and got a cab just to go get me pizza because I complained enough?” Duncan can’t believe it. “Why would you do this, Adam, seriously?”

Adam looks positively confused by what Duncan’s asking. “You wanted it; why wouldn’t I get it?”

“Because you had to get a cab and drive to who the hell knows where to get me something just because I asked for it? You don’t have to spoil me,” Duncan insists.

“I want to,” Adam tells him. “Just eat up, okay?” He gets up, turning his back on Duncan as he goes to grab his own piece.

 

5.

_March 7th, 2015_

 

Duncan doesn’t see the hit coming, but when his world starts shaking and he realizes he’s lying on the ice instead of upright on his feet, it’s all he can guess. He hears a commotion around him but doesn’t register much of it.

He’s just disoriented, though. He feels fine.

Getting to his knees slowly, he feels a hand on his shoulder and looks up to see Seabs, a worried look on his face.

“Don’t get up if you can’t,” Seabs tells him.

“I’m fine,” Duncan grunts as he uses Seabs arm to lift himself back to his feet. “Seriously, I’m okay.”

There’s a mess of players around them mixed in with a few refs, but Duncan just uses Seabs’ help to get off the ice. He’ll be fine; he just needs to sit down for a bit.

Duncan keeps his head down on the bench, just breathing and trying to regain equilibrium. He swears he’s fine, though. His head is on right and nothing in his body aches more than it should. He just needs a few seconds…just a few more seconds.

Distantly he hears a whistle go off and the guys around him on the bench leap up.

He manages to raise his head to see what they’re all cheering at.

It’s Adam; he’s a few feet away from the bench, poised with his hands up like a boxer. Duncan feels anger rock through him like an electric jolt. He does not need to be told that the man Adam is going against is the one who hit him. It washes over him like cold water and suddenly he’s awake, standing too—he’s not excited, though. He’s fucking pissed.

Adam swings his fist, connecting with the guy’s helmet before grabbing the back of his jersey and pulling hard. He manages to get the other guy’s helmet off as he’s taking punches to the ribs, but by then he has the upper hand. He’s hitting the guy hard, his knuckles connecting with the skull of his opponent. The other guy’s arms go around Adam’s waist and pulls, sending them both crashing to the ice and getting the refs attention as they pull them apart.

Duncan can’t fucking believe him.

He keeps it to himself until they get back to the house.

Adam’s lip is bruised and an angry red, his hand even worse—cracked and blue from where it collided with the helmet. Duncan even waits to get him ice for his hand before he starts yelling.

“You’re a fucking idiot, Adam, seriously,”

Adam’s still all buzzed from the fight, so Duncan isn’t surprised when he responds aggressively saying, “I’m a fucking idiot? Keep your goddamn head up.”

“I never asked for you to fight my fights,” Duncan told him. “This isn’t the fucking Bruins; we don’t do that kind of thing here.”

“I do that kind of thing!” Adam’s eyes were fever bright and angry. “I wouldn’t have to fight your fights if you could actually take care of yourself.”

“You’re in Chicago now; drop the goon act.”

Adam clenches his fist and drops the ice to the floor like he’s going to hit Duncan or something. He wouldn’t, but Duncan still takes a bracing step back anyway.

“I can’t just drop the goon act! I am a goon; it’s all I’m good at. Why would Chicago want me? To score? No, they want me to put my head on the line so guys like you and Toews and Kane and all of them can play their fucking game and not worry about being bullied around. I’m here to be a punching bag, what else, Duncan?”

“You’re more than that, and you know it!” Duncan is getting angry now. “I do not need you to stick up for me. I don’t need you packing my shit, cooking me food, carrying me to bed when I’m drunk, I don’t need shit from you, Adam, so stop fucking around.”

Adam’s face goes cold, freezing.

“Wait, that’s not…”

“You don’t want me to do things for you. You don’t want me to—what? Love you? Because why?”

“Because you’re hurt.”

“So are you!”

“I take care of you. You don’t take care of me, okay? I’m not weak and fragile. I can handle both of us just fine.” Why doesn’t Adam get that?

“So I’m weak and fragile?” Adam asks. “You can’t even pack for yourself, and you think I’m the weak one?”

“I’m not some girl.”

“Newsflash!” Adam shouted, his voice raising even louder than before. “Neither of us are girls! We’re both men, together. We’re in a homosexual relationship! Okay? That’s the point. Unless you want me to be someone I’m not, which I can’t just do. You want someone else? Go get someone else!”

“Why would I want that?”

“Because apparently, when I do things for you, your pride takes a hit, and you can’t handle that. You’re not 14.” Adam grabs his shoulder. “There is nothing wrong with needing help, okay? All I want to do is help you, Duncan. I love you; that’s what this is.”

It’s the first time he’s said it, not that Duncan didn’t know—they’ve been together for almost 4 years now—but Adam had never _said_ it. It sounds so much different than knowing. It’s so much better.

“I love you too, Adam.”

“Then suck up this pride thing.”

Duncan sighs and pulls Adam into a hug. “Whatever, yeah, sure.”

 

+1.

_April 4th, 2015_

 

Adam’s body is flushed a deep red and limp, but he’s grinning and running his hands through Duncan’s hair kissing him along his jaw.

“You’re so good,Duncan. You’re so good,” he keeps muttering over and over, like the best broken record.

“What’d’ya want?” Duncan breathes between them.

“You, fuck.” Adam wriggles below him to keep kissing his neck,

“Again?” Duncan chuckles.

“Always!” Adam says back laughing happily. “I always want you.”

Duncan can’t stop smiling, couldn’t even if he wanted to. His cheeks are starting to ache, but every time he tries to relax his face, Adam will nuzzle him again, and his smile will punch forward. He can’t help himself around Adam—he was never able to.

When this first started, Adam had been a mess—a ball of anxiety that could barely function off the ice. It was a litany of ‘not good enough’ and ‘worthless.’ Duncan just wanted Adam to know those things weren’t what defined him—he never meant to fall in love with him. But now, looking back, he can’t imagine it going any other way. Adam’s hand fits in his like they were made to be together.

Duncan doesn’t need to tell Adam he’ll always have him, but he does anyway as he curls them together tightly under the blankets. It’s hot completely submerged, but that’s the way Adam likes it.

And so what if Adam does so much for him? Duncan does a lot for Adam, too. Duncan can lay him out and get him to breathe easier. Duncan can bundle him up when he needs it, can cool him off when he needs that, too. Adam takes care of him, but Duncan takes care of Adam right back. They work because they were always supposed to. He just feels like an idiot for only now getting that.

Rolling around with Adam is just another thing Duncan can do for him, but soon he gets tired, almost falling asleep a few times.

“Okay, bedtime,” Adam says, leaning over Duncan to turn off the bedside light before dropping on top of him almost completely.

“Ugh, fuck, I can’t sleep with you suffocating me,” Duncan grunts and pushes at Adam’s shoulder before turning his back on him. He totally plans to turn back around and grin at Adam before they cuddle back up, but before he can, he feels an arm drape around his waist and a nose settle behind his ear.

“Adam?” He asks quietly.

“Shh, bedtime,” Adam repeats, stroking his fingers low along Duncan’s bare stomach.

“Okay,” Duncan murmurs, “just don’t go anywhere.” He pulls Adam more closely to him, so they’re wound tightly around one another. He feels Adam smile against his neck, and he plans on waking Adam up tomorrow by arching his back and rubbing himself all over him.

It’s a good plan.

But Duncan really wants to sleep right now.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to anyone who got this far! and to my favorite person in the world for helping me edit this.  
> You can find me on tumblr, I'm Loochskywalker there too.


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